MoonStruck
by MissRandumb
Summary: What if Bella had no Jacob Black? When she sets out for her hallucinations, she meets a tragic outcome. She literally forgets everything about her past. But, of course, for Bella the dangers never cease...
1. Numbness

_An: Here's chapter 1 for you! This takes place about a week or so after the night with Jessica. Enjoy!_

**Bella's POV:**

It had been quite a few months since Ed-_He_ had left me. I was still numb. My friends had given up on me, Charlie was always giving my cautious looks, and little in life made me happy.

I sat staring at my cereal, trying not to cry as the Carmel coloured flakes reminded me of my beloved's eyes.

Charlie cleared his throat, I ignored him. "Bella…" He began.

I carefully rested my spoon against the inside of my bowl, showing him I was paying attention without looking up.

He cleared his throat again to gain his confidence. "Bella… I think you should go to Jacksonville… to your mother… We both know this isn't going to get any better."

"No," I replied in a monotone, hoarse voice, for not having used it in a while.

"Bella," he said, getting irritated, "You need help, you aren't getting any better!"

"No," I replied again, still without looking up.

He sighed in exasperation and I felt his gaze penetrating my face from behind my long walls of hair. "Even I'm not sure if your mother can help this," he mused, "So I think you should get… hospitalized." He winced.

I felt my eyes narrow slightly. "No."

"Bella, this is not a request, this is a demand!"

I growled at him, a trait I picked up from… _Him_. Just thinking of Him brought a whole fresh round of pain. "So you want me checked into an asylum?"

He was obviously taken aback by my venomous tone and more-than-one-word response. He drew in a deep breath and murmured, "I think this is the only way to help you."

"I'm fine."

"No, Bells, you're not…" He trailed off.

"I'm fine," I gritted my teeth. I was slightly surprised at myself; this was the first emotion I'd shown in months.

"Fine," he snapped, "But if you don't get better soon, you're getting checked in. No ifs, an's, or buts."

I abruptly got up and placed my un-eaten bowl of cereal into the sink. I grabbed my keys, headed to my truck, and got in, carefully avoiding my gaze from the broken place where I took my stereo out.

I wasn't really paying attention, and I soon found out I was on a street that did not lead to work at all, instead quite the opposite. I parked my car for a few minutes to clear my senses, and I looked out the window. Something red caught my eye; a motorcycle. That would be great to bring on my hallucinations! It wasn't exactly new but it looked like it could work.

I got out of the car and saw a FREE sign taped to the handlebars. With a shifty glance right and left to make sure no one was watching, I pulled the bike into my truck's bed. Luckily Charlie would be out so he wouldn't see it.

I quickly drove home, ignoring the fact that I was missing my shift for Newton's, and raced upstairs onto the computer. After it slowly loaded I researched as much as I could on motorcycles. I printed off a couple sheets, including how to actually drive one, and set out for the front yard. I carefully pulled the motorcycle back out of the bed and placed it on the ground.

After memorizing how to work it for a few minutes, I hopped on and carefully started it. It roared underneath me, reminding me of His roars. _NO_, I mentally slapped myself, _do not think of Him!_

I carefully revved the engine again… waiting…

"_Bella…" _Ah, there it was.

I grinned and revved it again, harder.

"_Bella, don't do this," he pleaded softly._

I 'peddled-to-the-meddled' the bike and it went peeling off the curb, spitting some loose asphalt behind it.

"_Goddamnit Bella! Stop!" _If he was in front of me now his eyes definitely would have been as black as pitch.

I turned sharply around the corner and recklessly raced around the block a few times, ignoring the meaning behind my love's words and instead trying to commit his voice to memory.

It took a few weeks to perfect the art of how to drive The Beast, my dubbed nickname for it, but after a couple hours each day I successfully mastered it.

I decided to go for a quick drive around the block, to keep up on my training. Charlie hadn't found out about my motorcycle, and nobody else seemed to, but I made sure to be fast just in case.

After doing a block I figured I could add another one. Mine as well, even though Edward's voice had long since faded, seeing as how I now know how to drive it.

But it startled me when I could hear his voice again; _"Bella!"_ he screeched, yet it still sounded like a symphony of the most exquisite instruments.

I was distracted now, I looked around frantically. Surely this was not a hallucination? I hadn't had one in a while, there was no reason to.

"_Bella, no! Watch where you're going!"_

I looked up just in time to see a huge van skidding out of control, trying to miss me for I was now driving on the wrong side of the road.

My eyes widened and I braced myself for the impact of this metallic monstrosity.

**3****rd**** Person POV:**

Isabella Swan went flying off her motorcycle and continued airborne until she slammed her head into a nearby tree with a sickening crunching noise.

Apparently hers', the motorcycle, went spinning out of control and flew at Bella, whom was lying crumpled at the bottom of the tree. The motorcycle stopped moving when it hit her, and landed on top of her, knocking any air left out of her lungs.

The neighbors, upon hearing the loud screeches of metal on pavement, rushed out of their houses to see the horrific scene unfold. Amongst the panic, one sensible person called the ambulance and police, which luckily wasn't too far away.

As some of the neighbors stayed frozen on their doorsteps in panic, some people went rushing to pull the motorcycle off of young Miss Swan. What they saw would scar them for life.

Her body lay crumpled and broken, a heap of blood and messy flesh lying like a rag doll that had been chewed up by a Pit-bull. Her head was badly damaged; you could hardly tell where her face was between all the blood and dents. Her arms and legs were positioned in odd angles, clearly broken in horrible places.

Tears streamed down many people's faces, others were still in pure, agonized shock. Bella Swan was dead.

The paramedics appeared and checked her pulse, praying that she was alive. What they found shocked them all; a pulse, it was dreadfully weak, but nonetheless, a pulse there was. She was alive, but barely.

Chief Swan raced out of the cruiser and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the gruesome sight of his daughter. He sank shakily to his knees and took deafening, shuddering sobs. The other officers picked him up and helped him walk closer, for his knees were wobbly and could not support him himself.

"Is she alive?!" He screeched, grasping a paramedic's shirt in his sweaty palms.

The paramedic winced, for his ears were quite sensitive. "Yes… for now."

Charlie gasped between pure happiness to absolute grief. "Bells…" He choked out, and sobs wracked his body once more.

The paramedics carefully attached Bella to a stretcher and raced her inside the ambulance. It peeled down the street and out of sight..

_AN: There you have it! Hope you enjoy it. I absolutely loathe Jacob Black with a burning passion, so he won't be in this story. At least not now! If he is later (I'm making up my story as I go along, so I'm sorry if it takes a while to update) he will not now, not EVER win Bella's love. I'd kill him off as soon as I could. Have a nice day!_


	2. Searching

**Bella's POV:**

_There was a boy walking away, his shoulders were rigid, his head held high in a defiant and confident sort of way, but his shoulders betrayed them for they drooped in slight vulnerability. _

_All he did was walk, he did not look back, but he seemed to be walking away from something reluctantly, like he was walking towards problems instead of away from them. _

_I followed this boy, calling out to him, asking him questions, pleading and begging for unknown reasons. He did not seem to hear, but for every word I said his shoulders drooped lower._

_His strange bronze coloured hair blew in the gentle breeze, messing it up more than it was. He was deathly pale, so much so he seemed to glow, as if all light was radiating out of his skin. An angel within my own personal Hell. How ironic._

_I tried to race forward, to reach out for him, to make him stop, but I felt my feet growing heavier every second. Soon I stopped completely as the beautiful boy walked on. I looked down at my feet and to my horror they had been encased within stone blocks, holding my feet down with brutal force, and I could not move them for the life of me. My weakness, my pathetic human weakness._

_And then the boy vanished with the rustling of wind and leaves, leaving me, and everything, behind._

I woke up gasping for air desperately, violently trembling, and my starchy sheets were drenched with sweat, wrapped around me, restraining me like a straight jacket. I had a sharp pain where my heart was supposed to be, growing bigger each second. And I craved something, something that seemingly was extremely important to me, even more so than air. Nothing abnormal in the least.

I had been having this dream – or nightmare – every night since I was put in this place, _a mental institution._ I sighed heavily and fixed my gaze on the vacant, white-washed walls, as if seeing if they could tell me every answer to the questions my mind was asking.

Apparently I had gotten into a motorcycle accident a couple months ago, I had been driving on the wrong side of the road and a van hit me. I had lost all my memory of my past, _everything. _For some reason that was a big word for me– not just because everything literally is _everything _–but because I felt as if I had something huge, some mysterious and deadly secret happen in my past. But I was just Isabella Marie Swan, klutz and plain Jane maximum, of the world. Nothing terribly exciting about that.

But whenever I woke up from that dreamish-nightmare, I always felt as if _something _happened, something _more. _Like I needed something desperately… I just didn't know what. I never saw that boy's face, just his back (an incredibly good-looking back by the way).

I was woken from my inner musings by the nurse's sickly-sweet sugar-coated voice, "Time to wake up sweety!" she called shrilly. I felt like lobbing my pillow at her head.

I ignored her, hoping she'd take the hint and leave me alone. No such luck, it never worked. I heard her cautiously approach me on her tip-toes, as if I would lash out at any moment. Smart girl.

"Come _on!_" She hollered in my ear, having trouble to keep her sap-happy tone in check.

I whipped around extremely fast and bared my teeth at her; a menacing inhuman sounding growl escaping my throat, my chest throbbed painfully. She jumped back in shock, I could see the fear in her eyes, and I thrived on it.

She glared at me, rather unimpressively. "Normal people do not growl and act like animals!" she replied haughtily, completely dropping her cheerful demeanor.

I scoffed openly. I was in a _mental institution_, who the Hell said anything about being _'normal'_?

She narrowed her eyes more; it looked like she was squinting. It kind of reminded me of cheesy western movies. "Get up now!" She ripped my covers off me, balled them, and threw them at the floor. Then she proceeded to stomp back out of the room, making her look like a spoiled, temper mental toddler.

I groaned and rolled out of bed, clumsily making my way to the bathroom. I looked in the mirror dejectedly, seeing my sunken cheeks, paler than normal skin, purple shadows, and hallow, empty eyes. I looked like a girl who had lost everything, which was true, but I didn't know _what _exactly.

I mean, I did have Charlie, true, and occasionally my High School friends would drop by (mainly Angela, Mike kind of gave up when I purposely kept forgetting his name, although I only had to learn it again once).

I was assured that me and Charlie were quit close, seeing as how I had been living with him for around a year, but he sure damn well didn't show it. He barely came to see me for God's sakes!

I had done a lot of thinking on that issue. I mean, Charlie seems like a nice guy, someone I could easily get along with, so why didn't he come see me more often? Either: A) He got tired with me and my 'I'm mental, run away from me!' attitude, or, B) He thought that him being near me would remind me of something from my past, something he desperately didn't want me to remember. My guess was B, but A was probably a small part of it too.

I got dressed into my ugly, baggy hospital clothes and proceeded out into the 'living' room. The reason living was in quotation marks? Well, most insane people aren't exactly what you'd call party-houses.

I sat down in my usual chair and gazed out the window with deep intensity at the street below, searching… always searching…

After a while Miss Bitch came with my disgusting breakfast… if you could call it that. She placed it on the small, rickety table in front of me. I paid her, nor it, any bit of the slightest attention, still searching…

"ARGH!" Ms. B shrieked, temporarily popping my eardrums.

I inclined my head slightly in her direction and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"You never eat! You never do anything! You just sit there looking out the window! My God, I can't take this anymore!"

"You call this food?" I questioned, raising my other eyebrow. "Oh, and you are inclined to leave, good day," I waved a lazy hand dismissively.

She raised her hand, as if to slap me, but the only response she got from me was an amused smirk, clearly not what she was hoping for. She stalked back out of the room, huffing profanities under her breath the whole way. I continued my searching.

A couple minutes later she returned, for whatever reason I did not know. But the moment I saw her expression, the fake sorrowful look but clear smugness in her eyes, I was instantly wary.

"I am _so _sorry!" She gushed.

"And may I ask as to why? Or were you simply apologizing for your disgustingly immature actions minutes prior to this?"

"No!" She shrieked, "I was just simply apologizing for the terrible actions to your family members!"

The instant she said 'family' I instantly felt like an anvil was placed in my abdomen.

"And what has happened?" I hedged, my tone threatening

She giggled, "I can't tell you! But you'll have to follow me."

If she got pleasure out of my family members lives that obviously meant something bad had happened to them, and by the level of joy coming off her I'd say it was bad, real bad.

I followed her, tense as if to bolt like a bat out of Hell if need be. She showed me to a room, it looked like an office. I cautiously stepped in and studied my surroundings. There were many thick books that looked as if they were rarely read, but other than that the office was completely plain and boring.

There was an old, balding man in a suit sitting behind the desk, alongside a man in a cheap leather jacket that held the tangy smell of tobacco and alcohol. He had a really awful looking comb-over and many wrinkles and sun damage to his skin. This did nothing to ease my worries in the least.

I sat down, perched on the edge of my chair, and my eyes flickered edgily between the two men.

The older of the men, the one in the suit, took a deep breath and released it. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, as if to push down something unpleasant and keep it at bay. He slowly opened his eyes again and gazed intently at my forehead, completely avoiding my eyes. Now I was completely immobile as stone.

"Miss Swan… I have very unfortunate news for you…"

I quirked an eyebrow, "Yes?"

He sighed deeply, "Oh, I'm not sure how to tell you this…" he mumbled, "I'm not sure if your mental state could handle this either…"

Ms. Bitch barked a laugh and I threw her a dark look that she flinched back from. "I assure you I am fine. If I am apparently mental I do not see how I could get much worse." No need to tell them that I'm probably even saner than them.

"Yes… well, are you sure?" He clearly wanted to skip this conversation.

"Damnit, just tell me! The suspense is really what's making me insane!"

The guy who looked vaguely like a cop in those corny Las Vegas movies laughed, but was silenced with a look by suit guy.

"I am truly very sorry to say this, but…" he wasn't in the least bit sympathetic, "your parents and step-father have all been… murdered."

I gazed at him blankly, uncomprehending. "Murdered?" I repeated flatly.

He chewed on his bottom lip nervously, "Yes… we have pictures of the bodies…"

The cop guy (who turned out to be a detective) pulled a folder out of his briefcase and placed it on the table in front of me.

"Um… maybe we can skip this part. I'm sure she doesn't want to see these…"

Before he could finish I had grabbed the folder and opened it. I inhaled sharply at the first picture. My mother, beautiful sweet Renee, was completely mangled and bloody, but also a deathly, chalky pale. It looked like she had no blood left in her system. Her large, glassy eyes gazed unseeingly at the rest of the world. Charlie and Phil looked almost exactly the same.

I closed my eyes tightly and wished I was dead instead of them, they all had so much to live for, I had nothing… and now I have even less than nothing.

I closed the folder and shoved it back on the table; I did not want to see anymore. I couldn't handle any more…

"We haven't caught the killer yet," murmured the detective, "there were no fingerprints, weapon wounds… nothing…"

I got up abruptly, knocking over my chair, which made a deafening crash in the ominous silence that had drifted over the room. "I… I got to go… I think I'll have a nap…"

I ran out of the room, not bothering to wait for Ms. Bitch and completely ignoring her protests. I ran back into my room, barricaded the door, and slammed myself down on my bed.

_AN: Ah yes, mucho angsty. Sorry if you find it too depressing, but life isn't all fluffy bunnies and rainbows. You're probably wondering "Where the hell is Edward!!" Don't worry, he is officially in the story in Chapter 4, for that chapter is in his POV._


	3. Runaway

**Bella's POV:**

_A flash of orange; wild hair, billowing in the stormy winds like fire, climbing up towards the tree tops, as if seeking to catch something from thin air, to grasp at it's throat. It was in startling contrast to her ghostly white, alabaster skin._

_Wind whipping fast all around the figure, leaves ripping off trees and swirling around her feline-like stance, occasionally getting stuck in her hair. She didn't seem to care. _

_Eyes, eyes like hard rubies, cold and to be handled cautiously, a bloody red, menacing and emotionless; a void, set on a sinfully pleasurable task, revenge, bittersweet._

_Her mouth was set into a hard line, but as soon as a spark in her bright eyes lit, her mouth upturned into a smirk, as if caught doing something she wasn't supposed to but has not a care in the world at the trouble she will be in. Teeth, sharp and bone white, oozing what would be mistaken as saliva, but it was much more deadly than that…_

I screamed loudly and clutched at my bed sheets, straining them within my tight fingers. The only sound was a silence, the most deafening silence you could ever imagine… the worst kind, one where you knew something bad has happened… or something bad to come.

The room was dark, as usual, but it was much more foreboding. The dark seemed to press in all around my hyperventilating form, making me momentarily claustrophobic.

The only sound was my heavy heartbeat pounding in my ears, _thump, thump, thump. _

This nightmare was not my usual one – this one could _definitely_ be counted as a nightmare. No, this one was infinitely worse. Pure, naked panic washed over me and I fought to control my breathing. My pulse was another matter; it would not slow, although I knew it was important for my survival if it was quiet. I did not know why. My human instincts prickled in the memory of that nightmare – not a good sign.

"_You need to get out of here!" _A hauntingly beautiful voice whispered frantically in my head. This voice, one melodious voice, was all it took. I broke down completely. The gapping hole in my chest tore open and it felt as if something was ripping my heart to shreds, bit by bit. I cried out in anguish and clawed at my chest, my stomach, just trying to get this fire to seize. How did this voice affect me so! Who was the owner to this painstakingly beautiful voice?

Yet, I could not deny this mysterious new person inside my head anything; I would do _anything _for him. I hopped out of my hard bed and scrambled over to my drawers. I took all the clothes I could find, my secret sock money stash, and a couple bags of cookies I had hidden. I proceeded to stuff them hastily into my carrier bag, not caring if the outfits matched or not. My wardrobe wasn't one of my proudest accomplishments.

I glanced down at my hospital gown; there were a few blotches of blood from where my nails broke the skin when I was trying to claw my defective heart out. This would not do, it was not safe. I quickly threw the shirt off and replaced it with a baggy sweatshirt I had not worn in a long while: perfect.

Ok, now how the bloody Hell was I supposed to get out of here? Going out the front door would be completely pointless and stupid. The only other option was the window. I sighed, I would surely get myself killed, but this was already a life or death situation, was it not? God, why was I even running?! Who was this crazed fiery haired woman to me, what did she matter? _A whole Hell of a lot, _my mind answered, _and deep down you know it._

I exhaled deeply and reluctantly made my way towards the large window. I struggled to open it, but luckily seeing as how I was so thin now I was able to fit through the small space I had been able to provide.

I slipped out the window and managed to only escape with a scrape on the side of my waist. I hedged carefully down the brick wall; thank God they were fairly easy to climb down upon! I just needed to remember not to look down, or that would surely ruin my lucky klutz free streak. It was quite ironic how I could be surprisingly graceful when faired against a deathly situation. I laughed bitterly out loud.

And how I've managed to survive this long on my own! Either God was helping me, making me stay around because I had bigger, better things in life waiting, or he was playing some kind of sick joke. Either way I was grateful.

I slipped on one of the bricks, worn down with age, but I was only two feet off the ground and made it out with only a twisted ankle, nothing new.

I raced into the underground parking lot, my eyes flickering around at just the slightest change in shadow or movement. Better paranoid than dead. I dodged between cars, keeping myself as low and small as possible, if Mike were here as my sidekick he'd be humming the Mission Impossible theme song. I chuckled dryly.

Ah, my truck! I spotted the huge, red beast a couple meters ahead of me. I silently cursed myself for crashing my motorcycle; it would have made a much better get-away car. It made much less noise, and was smaller, faster, and easy to fit in small places.

I shoved my hand in my front pocket and pulled out my keys, stuck them a bit too forcefully into the door lock, yanked open the door, slammed it as quietly but tightly as I good, and thrust the keys into the ignition. I revved the truck and slammed my foot onto the gas pedal, sending my car lurching and squealing from being unused.

I had no destination in mind; I just knew I had to get away, far away.

I raced down the road as fast as I possibly could in this godforsaken slow-mobile, maybe I should get a new car, like a… Audi Coupe. For some reason my chest clenched. Oh well, I didn't have enough money anyways, just the stuff I saved from Newton's.

The street lights shined above me, looming overhead as if watching my every move. I shuddered, maybe I was insane.

There were no other cars on the road, just me. I felt extremely vulnerable, the hairs at the back of my neck tingled. Shit.

I drove recklessly, but the voice in my head did not sound again. I had been driving for hours on end, only stopping occasionally for gas. I did not bother to eat; it was not safe to get out of the confines of my safety cage.

After two more hours my stomach decided to make its protests known. I groaned, cookies would no longer satisfy it.

A couple minutes later I pulled into a McDonald's and stuffed three Big Macs into my mouth in less than five minutes. Finally a change from the revolting plastic food in the hospital!

I continued driving, this time stopping whenever I was hungry and finding a suitable restaurant, which was often. I guess my appetite was catching up on me again.

I switched on the radio to pass the time and stopped at a sensible station. Why hadn't I ever listened to music before?

The lyrics flowed smoothly through the speakers, like a lover's gentle caress, wrapping me in its sweet embrace…

_Just thinking of all the things that we've missed…_

_What good are promises,_

_If nobody honors them?_

_Wishin' beyond hope that_

_You will come back for me_

_But what good is dreaming_

_When you've forgotten what it means?_

I felt bitter tears stinging in my eyes. This would not due, I couldn't drive this incapacitated. I pulled over to the side on the road and rested my head on the hard steering wheel, breathing deeply while traitor tears streaked down my face in thick strands. I forgot how good yet bad it felt to cry.

_And why do we go on,_

_When we've got less than nothing to lose?_

_When all the sinners are winners,_

_And the Angels have not a clue_

I could definitely empathize with this person. God, it felt like they were singing my life – or story – for everyone to hear. Idiot, no one deserved to know, to experience, this agony. Not even me.

_All the happiness is destroyed,_

_In your mind's eye_

_When he disappears,_

_With just a kiss goodbye…_

The last lines of the song drifted to a close, and I brought my head back up to gaze unseeingly through the windshield, with a sigh. I needed to get going.

A plane was flying directly overhead of my truck. It was getting closer and closer to the ground. Of course, it was going faster than my truck – pretty much everything was – and I saw it land just ahead of me: an airport.

I drove and parked my car in the parking lot, leaving the keys in the ignition. Who cares if someone steals it? I'm not ever coming back for it. I grabbed all my bags out of the backseat and walked up to the front of the building, darting nervous glances around the perimeter. I felt kind of like a spy, which caused me to giggle.

I unconsciously started humming the Mission Impossible theme song, which made me think of Mike in black tights and a burglar mask, rolling around on the pavement and making his fingers look like guns. I burst into a round of laughter which caused a bunch of people to look at me like I was insane, and they were correct. That thought made me laugh even more.

Thirty minutes of begging, forging, and ensuring people I was not a hobo later, I found myself seated in an overly-stuffed chair thirty-thousand feet above ground heading to Denali, Alaska.

There was an overweight man with extremely greasy hair snoring next to me, he sounded like a congested pig. There was a bit of drool leaking out of the corner of his mouth, occasionally forming a big slime bubble, only to have it pop and splatter all over the seat. I leaned away from him in distaste.

I opened the blinds, ignoring the grumbles of protests from the sleeping man next to me, and peered out at the blinding sun, seeming to be following us along merrily, guiding me to safety.

They had some sappy romance movie playing; it sickened me so I didn't even bother to pretend I was watching it. The food on my tray was left untouched, except for the brownie I had eaten.

I had no belongings other than my clothes, so that left me with nothing to do. I blocked out all noises, creating a wall with my ears. It was kind of like being numb, except you have absolutely no train of thought. You're just… there, not focused on anything, not hearing, smelling, seeing, touching. It's like you're weightless. Pretty creepy, but it's good for passing time.

I was jolted 'awake' by the stewardess roughly shaking my shoulder. She was bleach blonde, had overly painted lips that clearly went outside the natural line, and a bus load of makeup. She reminded me of a carnival clown.

I squinted my eyes at her, straining them into focus. "Yes?"

"The plane has landed," she replied in a nasally, droning voice. "Get off now."

I got up a bit wobbly, muttering about impatience and bad attitudes under my breath as I got my carry-on bag out of the upper compartment. I brushed past her on my way out and she nudged me 'accidentally' into the plane's metal wall. _Damn, that's going to leave a bruise,_ I thought.

I made my way out of the airport and hailed a cab. "Drive me to the nearest motorcycle dealership."

He raised his eyebrows at me, skeptical. "Wha'd ever yah say, kid."

I leaned back into the comfy seats and closed my eyes, listening to the humming of the cars motor. I started unconsciously humming a sweet, haunting melody, sounding like a lullaby. I ignored the throbbing of my chest and instead focused on the tune, trying to remember what keys were used to play this on the piano.

The last note dwindled out and I slowly opened my eyes, blurry with tears. I ignored the driver's questioning glance and instead opted to look out the window, studying the scenery passing by. God, Alaska was beautiful.

"Here yah'r, kid," He mumbled, glancing over his shoulder at me.

"Thanks," I whispered hoarsely and handed him a couple twenties.

I stepped out of the car and grabbed my bag, the cab driver rushed away.

This place had _amazing _bikes, they were all sleek and shiny, and undoubtedly fast. _Perfect._

I was glancing around the lot, aimlessly walking and checking out the condition of the bikes, ignoring the incredulous stares of the bushy bearded older men in bikers' jackets.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a flash of midnight blue. I pivoted on the spot and pointed my gaze directly at it, the most beautiful, wonderful bike in the world. Its' parts were the shiniest silver, glistening like diamonds. Its' surface was flawlessly smooth, cold and hard yet oddly comforting despite its' intimidating look. The blue colour was perfect for me, I remember someone saying I looked good in blue.

"Eh, little lady. You lookin' for somethin'?" The rough voice startled me from my reverie.

I turned around to see a red headed and bearded man with muscular arms despite his old age. He had a wide toothy grin and crinkly blue eyes, I immediately liked him.

"Yes, sir. I would like to purchase this bike right here," I grinned at him.

"Aye, that one's a real beauty, ain't she?" He winked at me and I giggled. "Well then, this yer first bike?"

"Nope, I had one but crashed it into a van… and then a tree, with me along with it." I grimaced although I didn't remember it.

His expression turned sorrowful. "An' yer still goin' on it again? Whatcher parents gonna say 'bout that?"

I shrugged my shoulders and frowned. "My parents are dead," my voice was dangerously flat.

He patted my shoulder comfortingly with his big, warm hand. "S'ok. Let's getcher bike then, shall we?"

I smiled a small smile, grateful. "Mhmm."

After signing all the necessary forms and paying with all the money I had saved up for my collage fund, he led me back outside. "K' kiddo. Let's see whatcha got," he winked at me.

I hopped on the comfy cushions of the leather seats and sighed deeply, a wave of familiarity washing over me. This is where my real home was, the only thing that could ever comfort me.

I placed my helmet and leather jacket with tassels on (which was also newly purchased) and revved the engine, which purred under me. I felt a huge grin break across my face, which Bob (the biker guy) responded to with a goofy grin of his own.

I have him a little military salute and was off, the new tires squealing across the pavement, sounding like screams. The wind rushed past me, making my hair flap wildly against my back. All I could hear was the cars and air whooshing past my ears; just the way I liked it. I turned my gaze skyward, where the sun was peeking behind the big, fluffy clouds; it was going to be a nice day.

As I drove into the town limits, I saw the surprised looks of the town's folk as I whipped past them. I was pretty sure they didn't see an eighteen year old, with a fancy new motorcycle, from out of down driving down the road over the speed limits every day.

Everyone I passed instantly put on a weary look, some were curious. I guess they thought I was bad news, even though it could have just been the dark as pitch sunglasses I wore, hiding my face from view.

And then it hit me. Nope, not a van, but it definitely hit me with the force of one. It was the recognition that I did not have a home, and I couldn't sleep in my truck because I didn't have it anymore. _Ah, shit._

Not just that, but I had not finished my last year at school yet, with just a couple more months and all. _Oh, great way to be inconspicuous when you're trying to go into hiding Bella, real smooth._ I guess I could enroll in the school, it's not like they'd care if I just randomly showed up and said "Put me in your school, pronto." I was really starting to love small towns.

I drove a little longer, ignoring the inquiring stares, and drove into the parking lot of a building with a big sign that said "SCHOOL" posted on the front. I grinned, it looked just like Forks. I got off my bike and left the helmet on the seat.

I checked my watch; it was after school hours, so the office would be still open. I walked through the door and was instantly hit with a warm blast of air. The office was like any other, vinyl chairs, plastic plants, and a plump, chipper lady sitting behind the desk reading a cheesy romance novel.

"Hello, Ma'am," I asked politely, stepping up to the desk and waking the lady from her gushy reverie, "My name is Isabella… Dwyer, I'm here to ask if I can transfer to this school."

"Oh! Hello!" She replied, flustered. "Um, yes, well… you'll have to talk to the principal about that one!" She giggled nervously and smoothed out her shirt.

I nodded and sat down on the hard, slippery chair, waiting for the principal. Once she arrived I immediately stood up and walked with her to her office. The nameplate on her desk said Mrs. Gorman. I sat down on the edge of my seat and sat on my hands.

"So… I hear you want to transfer, correct?" She asked, peering over the rim of her glasses at me with her piercing blue eyes. She vaguely reminded me of Dumbledore from Harry Potter, except she was a woman.

"Yes," I replied nervously, "I would greatly appreciate it." I looked around the room, avoiding her gaze.

"You'll have to get your parent or guardian to sign these papers, you have one, correct?" Her gaze intensified.

"Um…" my voice trembled slightly.

She smiled a small smile, as if in understanding something. I felt as if she had just read me. "No matter then, you could always forge, yes?"

I widened my eyes in shock, "W-what?"

Her laugh was tinkly despite her old appearance. "You seem like you've had a hard life, I think it's time someone has given you a break."

"Thanks," I whispered unsurely.

"Here, just forge these right here," She handed me a thick stack of sheets and I quickly made my way through the signatures.

I carefully placed the pen across the page when I was finished, and scooted the pages a few inches in front of her on the desk. But she wasn't looking at them; instead her eyes were focused on me, boring holes into my brain. I couldn't look away, it was impossible.

"You do not have a place to stay, do you?" She whispered.

My expression instantly turned guarded. _Tell or not to tell, that is the question._ Mine as well tell, I've already got the damned sheets filled out. "No… and I have a motorcycle so I can't sleep on that…" My face fell into a heavily solemn look.

She smiled kindly at me, "You could live with me for a while, if you wish." At my disbelieving stare she added, "My husband died a couple years ago, I live alone. It'd be nice to have some company once in a while."

I felt as if I had to give her a warning as to what she was getting into. "I do not make the best… living mate. I am clumsy, quiet, and an unattractive and highly displeasing amount of danger lurks around me… even though I don't know why," I added the last part in a whisper.

Her smile did not falter in the least, but her eyes burned with curiosity. "It's always good to have a healthy dose of danger once in a while," she responded evenly.

I shook my head, casting my eyes downward. "It's not healthy when it's the only thing you have," I muttered darkly. I glanced up at her through my eyelashes, only to see her eyes were probing my face, studying me intensely.

"My offer does not change," she replied simply.

"A-are you sure?" I did not want to see the kind old lady's life end because of me.

She nodded, but did not respond anymore. Instead she got up, grabbed her coat and bag, and beckoned me to follow her. I stood up unsurely and followed her out the door, through the office, and into the parking lot, where she stopped in her tracks when she saw my sleek motorcycle parked there.

"You drive that?" She murmured.

I bit my lip and nodded, sure she would tell me to get out of her sight. But instead a huge grin broke out onto her face. "It is very nice," she whispered. "You can follow me on that to my house; it is not far from here."

I nodded and ran to my bike, tripping a couple times but regaining my balance before I fell. I threw on my helmet, jumped on my bike, and raced after her car's taillights.

I saw her brilliant blue eyes in the mirror, watching me with a smile in them. She looked younger than I'd seen her.

_AN: YAY! Another chapter. Edward is coming soon! LIke it or not? If you have any comments, complaints, questions, ideas, or whatever just review! _


	4. Lost

**Bella's POV:**

"Hey, hun? Why don't you go have a shower, I'll put your stuff in the guest room for you."

I nodded my head absentmindedly and followed her directions into the small bathroom, where I stripped down and proceeded to wash quite a few days worth of grime off. I reached for the shampoo and poured a fair amount onto my palm, it was a gold color, such a nice color, so beautiful…

I shook my head into focus and continued to lather and rinse. I dried off and changed into a baggy sweatshirt and jeans, brushed my hair quickly, and washed my face.

I made my way out into the living room and plopped down on the couch next to Norah (Mrs. Gorman). The news was on, and I lazily watched as the random flashes of color danced across the screen.

_**"Isabella Swan…"**_ My eyes instantly snapped into focus on the TV screen. My muscles tensed, going completely immobile. _**"…has gone missing."**_ I was hyper-aware of Norah watching me from the corner of my eye.

_**"She was last seen yesterday afternoon at the Seattle Mental Institute **_**(I don't actually know if they have one!). **_**She had just gotten the news of her parents and step-father's deaths, which had happened 24 hours beforehand." **_

By now Norah had her full attention on me, watching my every reaction; I ignored her and penetrated the screen with my accusing eyes.

_**"Her family was murdered, by whom police have yet to find out. We do not know what has happened to Ms. Swan, but her body was not found in her room. The only clues we could find was some tiny splotches of blood on her sheets, but we do not know if that is to be suspicious or not.**_

_**"It was late at night, around 11:30 when her aunt Victoria–**_"at the name I gave an involuntary shudder and my breath hitched in my throat _**"–**_ _**came to see her, to become her legal guardian. One of the nurses thought her aunt had slightly odd behavior, which led her to think insanity ran in the family. She said, and I quote: 'The woman was some crazy bitch! She had this bright orange hair that was all messed up and these creepy purple eyes! And she was pale, damn. But that stupid girl was pale too, so it kind of matched and everything. And so when I led her to the girl's room and found it to be empty she got pissed! She darted around the room, all tense and shit. And she sniffed the air like a dog! It was weird. I even suggested she sign in here and her eyes got all black! Then she started screaming and throwing things around!' The behavior of the aunt was rather suspicious, but she disappeared immediately afterwards so we could not question her. The ware about of Miss Swan is still unknown."**_

I gazed unseeingly at the screen. I stiffly got up, avoided the eyes of Norah, and walked into the guest room. Had my nightmares been warning me? There were two things I was absolutely positive about: _Someone was after me, and she was not human_.

**Edward's POV:**

_**"…the ware about of Miss Swan is still unknown."**_

I stared at the television, unblinking, unmoving, not even breathing. My chest felt like a pack of werewolves were repeatedly jumping up and down on it. I was sure Jasper was having a Hell of a time with the emotions radiating off me. Even though he was hunting I was sure he could feel them. Damn, if he was in China he'd feel them!

"Edward!" Alice screeched next to me, loud in my ears yet ringing painfully slow. I didn't respond, so she slapped me hard on the cheek.

"What?" My tone was flat, blunt, which seemed make it sound ever colder.

She started pounding her little fists into my chest with every word she spoke, "You did this to her! Victoria is out there searching for Bella and happened to kill her parents! And to make matters even worse, she was sent to a bloody insane asylum because of you! IT'S YOUR ENTIRE FAULT YOU STUPID BASTARD!" By the end of her rant she was dry sobbing.

I had been tracking Victoria (not very well) around the whole damn world and the whole bloody time she was after my Bella! A snarl grew deep in my chest and I slammed my fist hard on the coffee table, demolishing it to splinters. Esme was going to have a fit.

"Where is she Alice? I have to see her, to protect her!" I grasped her shoulders harshly under my hands, she didn't even flinch.

Her eyes sparkled with excitement, "Oh Edward! You're really going back? I knew you couldn't stay away from her!" She cried. I grinned sheepishly in response.

"Ok, let me see if I can find her, I'm going to focus…" She screwed up her eyebrows and squeezed her eyes shut. I closed my eyes and focused on her thoughts, ready to see the first image of Bella in so many unbearable months. I waited… nothing…

"Alice," I breathed, "what's happening?"

"I-I don't know," her voice trembled in anxiety.

"You don't think she's…" I trailed off. I could not say the word; _dead._ I shuddered mentally.

"No!" Alice screeched in denial. "No, NO, _NO!_ She can't be, she won't!" She brought her knees up under her chin and rocked back and forth, muttering under her breath.

There was an animalistic keening sound echoing throughout the room. It took me a few minutes to realize that I was making that noise. Desperate, heart-wrenching sobs of agony were escaping from my pursed lips. Bella… _dead, gone, forever. _No! She wasn't dead. She couldn't be!

"Alice, _damnit!_ Look harder!" I snarled. Thank God Jasper wasn't here; he would've ripped me to shreds for speaking to Alice like that.

"I'm _trying!_" She cried, her eyebrows furrowing so it looked as if she had only one. "_ARGH! _I can't see anything!"

"She's not dead," I whispered, but my words trembled and stuttered over themselves.

Alice unexpectedly jumped off the couch and grabbed a laptop from a nearby table.

"Alice!" I growled, frustration straining my words tightly, "what the Hell are you doing on that _thing?_ This isn't the time to go shopping! _Damnit!_"

A guttural snarl escaped her lips, and she snapped her head to look at me with the most blood-chillingly venomous look I had ever seen on her. "Bella's my sister, you jerk! You think I don't care about her well-being? I'm looking for information on her!"

I looked down at my feet, waves of shame rolling off me and making the deafening silence seem even more unbearable. "I'm sorry," I whispered, "it's just… God! She can't be dead!" I hugged my knees to my chest like Alice's previous position and banged my forehead repeatedly against them. "If I had never left, she wouldn't have disappeared. No, if I never had shown up in her life then she wouldn't even be in this mess! Sometimes I wish I never met Bella," but that was a lie, a complete and utter lie. The most blasphemous, sinful lie I had ever told besides telling Bella I didn't love her.

Alice looked about ready to tear me to shreds and have a happy dance on my ashes, but then she realized the truth in my eyes and her gaze softened. "I know you don't mean that," she whispered, "but, anyways, let's stop getting sidetracked and search!"

We came up with nothing. Her truck hadn't been found. Neither had she. Nothing at all. I didn't know whether to be relieved or grim.

We decided we should go up to visit the Denali coven, where the rest of our family was currently residing. Then could help us find Bella, at least they would be better trackers than me.

So, we grabbed the first plane we could and headed to the nice log mansion resting in the more woodsy areas, away from the peeping eyes of the townsfolk.

Upon reaching there, my family and Tanya's greeted us with open arms. Jasper and Alice had their proper reunion, which I adverted my eyes from so I would not be pierced by despair and ruin their moment. Esme was ecstatic to see me, even in my current state of depression.

Carlisle, my respected father figure, gave me a pensive, studious gaze, although his eyes were soft with kindness and kinship. He rested his hand lightly on my cold shoulder, feeling even colder now that my heart was thoroughly missing, lost wherever Bella was. And he whispered two words, ones that made me sure I needed Bella with me that instant, it was agony without her. "Welcome home," but it wouldn't be, not without Bella.

_AN: Another chapter down! How's Edward's POV? He's usually angry when he's upset, so I think I got his character down pretty good. I hope the story isn't too OOC. Enjoy!_


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